Introductions
by estrafalaria103
Summary: Kurt and Blaine are together. Now they just have to tell everyone. . .three quick shots, telling the Warblers, Mercedes, and Burt.


**The Warblers**

"I can't believe we lost.

David bit his lip, and stared at his best friend. Wes literally hadn't moved from the risers in twenty minutes. The other teams had gone home, New Directions without first wresting a promise from Kurt and Blaine to join them for a celebratory dinner. The police had pulled the crazy blonde lady away, and Aural Intensity had disappeared less then ten minutes after the results were announced. Now it was just him, Thad, Kurt, Blaine, and the erstwhile Wes.

"How did we lose? It's just not possible. . .we had a twelve part harmony. . .we had dancing. . ."

Thad just sighed and crossed his arms. "I told you we should have just had all Blaine, all the time. The judges love Blaine. . .no offense, Kurt."

"None taken," Kurt said with a shrug. David peered at him. Why was he smiling all weird like that? "If I'd known we'd have a nun and a conservative judging us, I might have been in favor of it, too."

"Because my solos are breathtaking," Blaine said with a smirk. That just sent Wes into another caterwaul, however, and caused Thad to furrow his brow thoughtfully.

"You know, fair Blaine," Thad mused. "I have to be honest. . ._Candles_ wasn't really up to your normal, superb, metaphysical, extraordinary, hyperbolic levels of excellence. I think you might, actually have been – dare I say it – flat?"

Wes wailed again. His right hand began clenching and unclenching. David's heart fell. They'd left the gavel at home. He glanced back up in time to see a furtive glance exchanged between Kurt and Blaine. David frowned. Something was going on between those two. . .

"Stupid. . .homophobic. . ._bastards_," Wes hissed. "We earned that trophy. We _deserved_ that trophy."

"Okay, seriously, get over it," Blaine snapped. "Your parents have so much money, they'd just take you to New York if you want to go so badly. And the trophy is just cheap plastic."

"But it should be _my_ sweet plastic," Wes sniffed. "_Raise Your Glass_ was brilliant. Insipid, half-assed original songs shouldn't have beat that."

"But seriously," Thad said, still deep in though. "Blaine couldn't have been flat on _Candles_. It must have been Kurt. . .Kurt, were you sharp?"

"Urm. . ." Kurt just glanced over at Blaine, before leaning over and very obviously whispering, "_Should we tell them_?"

Blaine's face lit up with panic. "Not now," he said. But even Wes had caught on to that conversation, and stood up, his arms tightly folded across his chest. He slit his eyes and glared.

"Tell. Us. What?" he asked.

"Yes, friends, tell us what?" Thad added, clearly trying to sound intimidating. David wasn't intimidated. He doubted Kurt or Blaine were, either.

Kurt didn't say anything, he just reached over and grabbed Blaine's hand. The rest of the Warblers just stared at them.

"Do you have a point?" Wes whined. "What does this have to do with us losing Regionals?"

"Um. . .Blaine and I are together," Kurt said. David raised one eyebrow.

"Yeah," he said. "We know that. What does that have to do with us losing Regionals?"

Blaine laughed, shrill and a little higher than usual. "We might have, um. . .forgotten to perform a bit. Er. . .we might have been. . .singing to each other a little too much."

"What else is new?" Wes asked. "We assumed that was why you wanted to duet with Kurt, anyway. To get the loving emotion in there."

Kurt raised one eyebrow. "We weren't even together when Blaine asked for me to do the duet with him."

Well, that was the first surprise of the night (other than losing Regionals, of course). David glanced over at Wes and Thad. They had mutual, poleaxed expressions on their faces.

"You weren't?" David asked.

"No. . ." Blaine was frowning. "You guys thought we were?"

"We most certainly did!" Thad flopped down beside Wes. The despairing look on his face now nearly met that of his friend. "We thought you got together. . .well. . .ages ago."

"You did sing _Silly Love Songs_ to him," Wes said reasonably.

"And we know you spent the night. In his bed," David added.

"You guys get coffee all the time. . ." Thad whispered.

"Then you sang _Animal_," Wes added.

"I can't even count the number of times Kurt mentioned how sexy you are, Blaine," David said.

"And you called Kurt the most compassionate, moral, wonderful person you'd ever met," Thad added. The two boys being discussed just stared at each other in befuddlement.

"Um. . .no. . .we just kissed this week," Kurt said. David was pretty sure his jaw was hanging nearly to the ground.

"You weren't making out on the back of the bus on the way to the field trip?" Wes asked.

"Why did we give you the super cool back seat?" David wailed.

"You guys were on that bus, too!" Blaine was clearly feeling flustered. "You had to know we weren't making out!"

"We didn't look back!" Thad was on the verge of tears. "The other guys didn't want mental scarage. I didn't want my heart even more broken." With a diva move worthy of Kurt, Thad jumped to his feet, pulled off his tie, and flung it on the ground, before stomping off.

"What's wrong with him?" Blaine asked.

"We lost Regionals!" Wes had clearly returned to his earlier state of despair, and dropped his head between his knees. David just sighed, before answering,

"Thad's been holding himself in check ever since _Teenage Dream_, because he thought you were going out with Kurt. You just told him that, for the past four months, he could have put the moves on you."

"Wait. . .Thad likes me?"

Kurt smiled fondly, and pat his new boyfriend on the shoulder. "You really are oblivious, aren't you?"

**Mercedes**

The celebratory dinner. . .hadn't gone so well, to put it mildly. Though everyone had been ecstatic to be together after winning Regionals, and though there had been a ton of hugging and screaming on stage, upon arriving at Breadstix, it had just become mostly screaming. Santana had refused to sit anywhere near Artie and Brittany, and had soon dragged Sam out with her. Rachel was looking so miserable staring at Finn and Quinn, that they had taken off as well. Mr. Schue had answered his phone and wandered off to giggle. Tina and Mike had early curfews. Which meant that, by the time Kurt and Blaine arrived, the so-called "celebratory dinner" was down to just six.

"Hey, fabulous ladies," Kurt said, squeezing into the booth next to Mercedes. Both Kurt and Blaine seemed a _little_ too happy, for having just lost Regionals. She narrowed her eyes. White boy knew something. . .

"Kurt. . ." Puck leaned over the table, and holy hell, boy had tears in his eyes. "That song you sang. . .was so. . .beautiful. . ." he sniffed. Lauren rolled her eyes.

"He's kind of high," she whispered to all of them. "I put the pot in the brownies."

Ohhhh. . .Mercedes felt like whacking herself upside the head. It all made sense. . .Puck nearly bawling his eyes during the Warblers performance, his uncharacteristic hugginess, the way he'd tried to smell her coat on the way to the restaurant. . .

"Thanks, Puck," Kurt said, an amused twist on his lips. "You guys were really good, too."

"Please," Mercedes said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "We shoulda done my song. That would have killed."

Rachel looked pained at that. Mercedes sighed. Diva always needed her accolades. "But Rachel's song was great, too."

"That first one?" Blaine looked interested. Mercedes stared at him. He seemed, if anything, more buoyant than Kurt. She sniffed the air. Something was definitely up. "That was really something, Rachel. You're very talented."

"Thank you," Rachel said, sounding stiff. Mercedes glanced back and forth between the two of them. Rachel was sitting ramrod straight, and looking a bit awkward. Blaine, meanwhile, had one hand awkwardly on the table and the other under it. "Yet again, I must applaud your vocal aptitude."

"Thanks," Blaine said. He smiled. Mercedes swooned a little, before catching herself. No way she was falling for a gay boy again. Besides. . .she glanced sideways at Kurt. He was her best friends gay boy. . .right? Wait a minute. . .Kurt had one hand under the table, too. A tiny bit of an idea was glimmering in the back of Mercedes mind. . .

She waited until the waitress was coming over, and distracting everyone. At that point, she stuck her elbow hard into Rachel's side, and ducked down under the table.

"Mercedes, what that. . ." Rachel protested. Of course she did. Mercedes didn't have time for that, though, because what did she see under that table? TWO WHITE BOYS HOLDING HANDS! She didn't even mind hitting her head on the bottom of the table when she tried to leap up, hooting and hollering.

"Mercedes, are you okay?" Artie asked, when she'd reappeared. Puck was too busy giggling inanely to have any reaction. Rachel was saying something – Mercedes didn't really care what. She just stuck her finger into her best friend's chest. Hard.

"What the hell, boo? You don't tell me that you got your teenage dream?"

Kurt turned red. Blaine grinned and raised one eyebrow. Brittany gasped, and started singing.

"Blaine. . .you drive me insane. . .you're as hot as you seem. . .you're my teenage dream!"

"Yes, dear," Artie said, patting the girl on the shoulder. "That Blaine."

Kurt leaned in close. "I didn't want to rub it in Rachel's face," he hissed. Mercedes rolled her eyes.

"Boy, she's still hung up on Finn. Besides, we won _Regionals_. I think Rachel can get over the fact that her gay ex has moved on."

"I resent that!" Rachel said. Everyone stared at her. She shrugged. "I wasn't listening. . .what's going on?"

**Burt**

"Dad, I'm home!"

Burt glanced at the clock. Five to midnight. Finn had arrived home over an hour ago. Burt frowned, but Carole pat him on the arm.

"Calm down," she said. "He's still back in time for curfew. Didn't Finn say he was at dinner with all of their friends?"

Burt didn't have a chance to answer her, because by that time, Kurt had walked into the living room, smiling broadly from ear to ear. Burt honestly couldn't remember the last time he'd seen his son looking so happy. And then he saw it.

His son was holding hands. With a boy.

He thought his heart attack might have been slightly less painful. Then he followed that hand up to the face. Blaine. Which was nice, he supposed. He knew Kurt had liked the other boy for a while now. And he seemed nice enough. . .polite. Except. . .

He'd already spent the night in Kurt's bed.

And then weeks later he'd asked Burt to explain sex.

And now. . .

Burt stood up quickly, his eyes narrowing and his nostrils flaring. He pointed a finger menacingly at the kid's chest.

"You two will _not_ have sex in my house."

"Dad!" Kurt protested, his face quickly going red.

"Burt!" Carole was aghast.

Burt ignored all of them – he kept his finger pointed angrily. Because no amount of confused caterpillar eyebrows and wide eyes would fool him. He could connect the dots. . .Hummel was no idiot. First the boy tried to get it on with his son, was disappointed by Kurt's lack of knowledge, and was now trying to do round two. What was it that kids said these day? Hell with the no was that happening in his house. He stalked up to the kid. Who was short. That was good.

"I see what you are up to," he ground out. Kurt was still wailing somewhere in the background. The kid looked terrified. Good. "You just remember what you said to me. My son is compassionate. And _moral_."

And then Kurt had ahold of one arm, and Carole had the other, and they were literally pulling him away. Kurt was yelling about double standards, and Carole was whispering about his heart, and Blaine's eyes crossed. And then he dropped to the ground. In a dead faint.

Huh. Unanticipated.

So he helped Kurt and Carole get the boy on the couch. When he woke up (2.5 minutes later, and when Kurt was already on the phone, ready to dial 911) they had a talk. It was an awkward talk. It was a weird talk. Burt did not enjoy that talk.

He did enjoy the look of terror on Blaine's face.

Even more, he enjoyed the way he clutched at Kurt's hand. He enjoyed the blessed out look in his son's eyes. And, once Blaine had explained that he had no intention to be "a guy at a party", Burt was a little bit appeased. He invited the kid to Friday family dinner. Surprisingly, the kid accepted.

Well, Burt thought. Maybe this relationship would be okay.

Kid still wasn't staying for no sleepover, though.


End file.
